Driving Discussion
by TereT
Summary: Post-Shadow Play; friendship between Jack and Jonas. Jack takes Jonas to a driviing range where the discussion turns serious. Slight Sam/Jack angst.


Title: AUTHOR: TereT  
EMAIL: terehwhope  
CATEGORY:  
SPOILERS: Post Shadow Play

SEASON / SEQUEL: Season 6

RATING: G  
STATUS: Complete  
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The situations and original story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author.

 **Jonas changed** the cd in the stereo. Major Carter lent a stack of music discs to him with the comment that he needed to expand his musical horizons past opera and orchestral music. She was right. If he was going to live out his life here on Earth, it would help to have a better grasp on . . . boom—no, that isn't right—pop, pop culture.

He pushed play and a slow, sultry guitar intro began; drums thumping soft and low in the background. What had Sam said about this group? That their music never failed to put a smile on her face?

"Baby hair . . . with a woman's eyes . . . I can feel you watching in the night. All alone with me and we're . . . waiting for the sunli-i-i-ght . . ."

Wow, Sam's a romantic. That surprised him. She always seemed so, well, not this. He had to admit, though, that the slow, soothing rhythm coupled with the singer's unique voice was an interesting combination. Jonas flipped the jewel case over to read the song list.

"'Sara Smile,' huh," he said as Hall, or maybe it was Oates, sang the same words.

"You know she does, don't you?"

"Colonel O'Neill—Jack—Wow, I didn't hear you come in."

Jack leaned against the doorframe. Lounged, really. "Yeah, I figured."

"She does what?"

What?" Jack hesitated a second, with a hint of a grin in his eyes. "Oh. She smiles."

"Who? Sam?"

"Sam? No, Sara."

"Who?"

"Sara...never mind—old joke. Old song."

"New to me."

"Well, whatever. You know, 'She's Gone' is way better."

"No, I didn't—"

"Didn't expect you to."

"What?" Jonas shook his head slightly, trying to grasp where he lost the thread of the conversation. He looked at Jack only to see the man mask his humor behind pursed lips. Something was funny here and Jonas figured it was at his expense.

"Oh, nothing. Come on, I'm springing you."

Jonas turned off the stereo before answering. "You're what?"

"Springing—that means Hammond said it was cool for you to leave base with me. Do you have any regular clothes?"

"Yes. I had to get some when we went to Steveston while you were . . . ah . . ."

"Oh. Yeah." Jack's face clouded over briefly. "Well, change into something comfortable and meet me at the elevator in, say, ten?"

Jack left the lab and started down the corridor leaving Jonas to follow. "Jack, where are we going?"

"I'm taking you driving since Teal'c is off-world."

"Okay, that makes no sense to me."

The man kept walking away. "That's okay, I didn't expect it to. Ten minutes, Jonas."

"Yes, sir."

 **As he neared the** elevator, Jonas skittered to a walk. He didn't want to keep the colonel waiting any longer than was necessary, but he also didn't want to appear too eager. The last time he did that, Jack treated him to a barrel roll in the death glider. Jonas certainly didn't want to give the guy an opportunity like that again.

Of course, he never actually expected the man to initiate a conversation with him that wasn't absolutely necessary much less offer to spend downtime together doing . . . driving. Jonas couldn't figure out the apprehensive feeling he had in his gut, but he certainly didn't believe that the driving Jack mentioned had anything to do with an automobile.

Rounding the final corner, there Jack was, speaking to Sam. Too casual, too relaxed, in Jonas' mind. Wearing his usual baggie pants and a dark t-shirt, Jack leaned against the wall while he waited, one leg bent, foot resting flat on the wall's surface; a tall, oddly shaped bag with metal things sticking out the top standing in front of him.

"So, Jonas," Sam began, smiling brightly, "you're going off base with Colonel O'Neill, huh?"

Before Jonas could answer, Jack said, "Yes, yes, he is." Pushing off of the wall, Jack patted the bag of stuff in front of him. "I'm introducing him to driving, aren't I, Jonas?"

Wide-eyed, Jonas looked from one to the other and saw the two share a glance, that unspoken language of theirs, and had that sinking feeling again. "That's what he said, Sam. Should I be worried?"

Sam's face had a look of innocence to it that didn't ring true in her voice. "No, no, Jonas. Nothing to be worried about."

"Have you ever gone . . . driving with him?"

There was that look between them again, just a beat before they both spoke.

"No. We, uh." Jack quickly ran his id card through the scanner to call the elevator.

"No, haven't done that."

This was not good. Jonas didn't know what the heck was going on, but suddenly, he really didn't want to do whatever this was with the colonel. They were acting too . . . odd.

Jack hoisted the strap of the bag over his shoulder. "Let's go, Jonas."

"Sam, you're more than welcome to come with us. Really."

"Major Carter doesn't like driving," Jack said, stepping into the elevator and reaching to hold the door for Jonas to enter.

"That's not true, sir," she said.

Jack punched the button for the car to move.

She met the colonel's eyes with a smile and, as the doors began to close, added, "It's just that, for me, driving requires something with power under me."

Jonas looked from the closed doors to the colonel, whose neck and ears were quickly turning a bright shade of crimson. He sensed a really strong nuance between the two but was unsure as to why. "Just how many different kinds of driving are there on this planet?"

 **Jack paid the fees** at a faded green shack. The teenager plunked two metal pails of white dimpled balls on the ledge of the shack. Jack grabbed one, leaving Jonas no choice but to carry the other while dragging the bag of golf clubs—Jack had explained what the things were on the way over—behind him.

Incredibly bright lights flickered on, turning away the deepening dusk of the evening and illuminating the rich green of the driving range. A row of men, their golf bags within ready reach, thwapped balls down the range again and again. The change in lighting didn't impede their swings.

Silently, Jack headed toward the end of the range, where an empty table and chairs indicated available space. The golf bag dropped to the ground by the white plastic table, the pail hitting the ground beside it, spilling a few balls.

"Beer?"

"What?" Jonas asked, sliding Teal'c's golf bag from his shoulder. Those things were heavier than they looked.

"Beer? Do you—is there alcohol . . . where you come from?"

"Alcohol? You mean, like, an intoxicant?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know, Jack. The intoxicants on my . . . back home were odd. Others could drink and really not be affected. Me, well, let's just say I steered clear of the stuff for a reason."

"Well, what they have here is mostly water, but, I agree, let's not take the chance of it affecting you. What'll you have, then?"

"Ginger ale?"

"No, that's a girl's—No, no way am I ordering ginger ale. I'll bring you back . . . something." Jack headed back the way they'd came.

Great, now what? Jonas plopped into a white plastic chair, heard a slight cracking sound, and made mental note not to plop into plastic in the future. Maybe he should have accepted the beer. Wow, he hoped it wasn't rude of him not to. Jack seemed very much . . . well, how Jack seemed wasn't too off from how Jack always seemed. Withdrawn. Controlled. Judgmental. Or, at least that's how he seemed around him.

"Here," Jack said.

Jonas accepted the ice-cold red can. "What is it?"

"Cola. Carbonated water with caramel coloring and sugar. All the kids love it."

Jonas eyed it, and Jack, suspiciously before popping the pull tab and releasing a "pfffsst" of carbonated pressure. He sipped it hesitantly, bubbles filling his mouth and burning his throat. Odd that it was actually a pleasant sensation. "It's good."

Jack gave a half smile as he took a long swig of his beer before setting the bottle on the table. "Come on, darkness is burning." He pulled a driver out of his bag and carried the pail of golf balls over to the line. Jonas followed suit, giving ample space between he and the colonel.

"I still don't understand the point in this. You just hit the balls to the other end?"

"Yep. That's it."

"Why?"

"Well, some do it to practice."

"For what?"

"Improving their golf game. You know, eighteen holes and all?"

Jonas didn't, but he would after he got back to the SGC and researched the game. "But you don't?"

"Nope. I do this when I can't fish."

Yeah, Jack, that helps explain things. "Oh."

Thwaap! Jack sliced a ball down the range. "D'oh! I hate it when that happens."

Jonas watched Jack's stance and mimicked it when taking a swing at the ball. The head of the club made contact with a satisfying sound and soared through the darkening sky.

Following the trek of the golf ball with an unreadable look on his face, Jack asked, "You've never done this before?"

"No. Did I do it right?"

"You could probably tighten up a little on your grip. And, bend your knees more."

"But you didn't."

"Well, my knees don't bend like they used to."

"Oh." What else could he say that didn't make this worse? Jonas really didn't think it was wise to ask about the state of Jack's knees, given the last injury he'd had before Jonas was added to SG-1. Instead, he hit another ball. Again, it arced perfectly, landing at the far end of the driving range.

Jack watched him, but said nothing before setting up another golf ball and whacking it hard. The whip-like sound of the club cutting the air and the thwap when contacting the ball echoed down the range. Every few moments the sound was repeated. Swoosh, thwap. Swoosh, thwap. Swoosh, thwap.

After a while of the oddly relaxing noise and the focus needed to drive each swing straight and true, Jonas realized how this activity could be enjoyable albeit repetitive.

"So, Jack," he began, never breaking the rhythm of his swing, "what was Sam referring to when she said she liked a different kind of driving?"

Jack pulled his swing and the ball went flying short and to the right. "What?"

"Back at the base. I didn't get it."

"Oh, that. She's got a thing for motorcycles."

Jonas set up another ball. "Yeah, but . . . I got the feeling she wasn't talking about those either." Swoosh, thwap.

"I heard you visited Kiernan earlier this week."

Smooth how Jack seemed to change the subject when the subject was Sam. "Yeah."

"How's he doing?"

"Progressively worse, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry."

Jonas looked over at the older man. He was. It was obvious on Jack's face and in his voice. Unexpected. Jack reached for his beer and tipped it back. Jonas tried a weak smile. "Yeah, well. Maybe something good can come out of it from the Naq—supplies we retrieved. For both of our worlds."

Jack set his beer back on the nearby table. "Maybe." Jonas watched as Jack tipped the bucket with his foot and dragged a ball into place with the head of the club. "What about your family, Jonas? You've never mentioned anyone else . . . back home."

Swoosh, thwap.

"Yeah, well, there really isn't much to tell."

"Oh, come on, Jonas. You didn't hatch out of an egg—everyone has parents."

Swoosh, thwap.

"I do. I just don't know them." Jonas walked over to his soda on the table and sipped it. "There was a program at Kelowna. The government screened young children for their intelligences. Those who were identified of having unique skills were placed in special schools to be studied as they learned. I never saw my parents again." He threw the empty can into the trash and walked back to his clubs.

"That's where you met Kiernan?"

He nodded. "Not long before I entered University, he began coming to my school. He worked in the science lab with us. I don't know if it was his own idea or on behalf of the University, but he took an interest in me back then."

"And you went on to study under him at the university?"

"Yeah. And, from there, into government service and the Naquadriah project."

Swoosh, thwap.

"What about you, Jack?"

"What about me?"

"I mean, I know why you were brought into the program, but why do you stay? Even after . . . all that's happened recently."

Swoosh, thwap.

"I have my reasons."

Jonas blinked. "Yeah, I know. That's why I asked."

"They're _my_ reasons."

Swoosh, thwap.

"You're not married."

Swoosh, thwap.

"Not any more."

Jonas looked up from his stance. "Not any more?"

"No."

Swoosh, thwap.

"But you were?"

"Yeah. For a while. We had a son."

Swoosh, thwap.

"Really?" Jonas stared at the older man as he pushed around golf balls with his driver. "A son? Had?"

"Yeah. Charlie. He died before," Jack dragged out the word as he apparently searched for the right phrase, "all of this. The marriage did, too, not long after."

"Oh. Wow." Jonas shook his head. "Well, not 'wow,' but . . . I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack took a practice swing before focusing and really hitting the ball. Swoosh, thwap. "Yeah. Me, too. He would have been eighteen this year; same age I was when I decided to enter the Air Force."

"But, you're an officer, didn't you have to go to college first?"

"I did. Did the Air Force ROTC, and when I graduated, I went straight into flight school," Jack paused to hit another ball. "I'd kinda thought that Charlie might do the same."

"Can I—would you mind if I asked what happened?"

It was Jack's turn to shake his head. "Just an accident. A rotten." Swing. "Stupid." Swing. "Accident."

Jonas eased a few more balls out of his bucket with the head of his club. "I was engaged once." Swoosh, thwap.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"We were young. It was a long time ago." He glanced at Jack and caught him smiling in a sad way. "Just a short while before we were to be joined, she was killed."

Swoosh, thwap.

When Jack didn't say anything, Jonas decided he'd keep talking. He hadn't thought of Iona in such a long time, but he could still see her laughing, the sun glinting in her honey-blonde hair. "We all—a bunch of us from University—decided to take a day off. That was frowned upon by the administrators."

"Hooky? Yeah, I bet," Jack said.

"Anyway, it was a really nice day and we snuck down to a lake not far from town. Some brought lunches, spread blankets on the ground. Some of us went swimming in the lake."

"Skinny-dippin'?"

"What?"

"Swimming without clothes—it's something kids tend to do when they're playing hooky. Never mind."

"Oh, no. We wore swimsuits. It wasn't _that_ kind of party," Jonas explained. "No one really knows what happened exactly, but I noticed Iona was missing—that was her name, Iona."

"Nice."

"She was." Jonas hit another ball. "We searched everywhere. Someone remembered seeing her swimming. I found her at the bottom of the lake."

"Gaah," Jack said, the exclamation was of surprise and sympathy. He hit another ball hard. It flew wildly across the driving range.

"So, no."

"No, what?"

"No, I didn't leave anyone behind when I left. Just some close friends and colleagues like Dr. Kiernan, and a world bent on destroying itself."

Swoosh, thwap.

"It's hard to forget your first love, you know, Jack?"

Swoosh, thwap.

"Yeah." Jack knelt down, grimacing as he did, to pick up the remaining balls that had dumped from the bucket. "But, you know, Jonas, give yourself time. You'll be surprised at where you might meet somebody."

"Yeah. At the SGC? Pffft," Jonas didn't see himself meeting anyone there. "Not quite where I'd think you could fall in love with someone."

When Jack didn't answer, Jonas began to watch him more closely as he put the bucket on the table and put away his golf club. "That's why you haven't left the Air Force."

"What?"

"You-your reason for staying." Jonas continued to stare at Jack, who took a long draught to finish off his beer. Someone who Jack would be able to see often, even with their off-world missions, and who, who— "You're staying for Sam." The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush.

Jack closed his eyes as he tossed the empty bottle into the trash can. When he opened them, Jonas could see he was right.

"Think what you want," Jack said. Not an admission, but not a denial either.

Jonas's thoughts whirled. When Jack was missing and Sam had said she knew why Kanaan went back to Ba'al's planet, it all made more sense. "You influenced Kanaan to return for Shallan. It wasn't just the 'nobody left behind' stuff—it was because you care for Sam. You would never leave her behind like that. That's why Kanaan went back."

Jack's face clouded over and Jonas could only guess he was remembering his imprisonment. Still, he didn't speak. He only swung his golf bag over his shoulder and picked up the bucket. "Come on, Jonas. It's getting late. Let's go."

Jonas quickly gathered his things and followed Jack to the green shack to return the empty pails. When they were putting the golf bags into the back of Jack's truck, he finally spoke. "Jack, I know it's none of my business, but . . . does she really know? Is that how she knew how you influenced Kanaan? Is that why you took the symbiote in the first place?"

"You're right, Jonas. It's none of your business."

Jonas sighed. "It's not going anywhere. I won't tell. It's in the strictest of confidence. I'm just trying to be a friend—I'm trying to understand."

"Well, that makes two of us," Jack said, roughly closing the tailgate. He climbed into the cab of the truck and fired the ignition. As Jonas slammed the door behind him, Jack said softly, "Yeah. She knows, and that's the end of it."

"But, why?"

"It's wrong. It's not allowed. A million reasons. Pick one."

"But if you left, no one would question it after what you went through."

"Jonas, I-" Jack stopped himself as he ran a hand over his face, inhaling and exhaling before speaking. "It's complicated."

"No, it isn't."

"If I'm gone, who will watch out for her?"

"Who says she needs watching? You didn't see her deal with those Goa'uld in Steveston, Jack." Jonas's admiration of Sam was clearly evident in his voice.

"I can't trust that. She's—the team's my responsibility. I can't—I won't walk away from that."

"But, don't you deserve some happiness, too? The both of you?"

Throwing the truck into reverse, Jack shrugged before backing out of the parking space. "Who says I don't have that now, Jonas?"

Shaking his head, Jonas buckled his seat belt and watched this different world pass by on the way back to the base.

The End


End file.
